


Midnight Kisses

by sweetcarolanne



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Genderfluid Character, Manipulation, Mind Games, Non-binary character, Other, Seduction, Spooky, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcarolanne/pseuds/sweetcarolanne
Summary: One dance with the vampire was enough to make the hunter become obsessed...
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Non-Binary Character, Vampire/Vampire Hunter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!





	Midnight Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [screechfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this! Happy Shipoween!

In dreams, and when awake, those eyes haunted him and that smile almost drove him mad.

Eyes that seemed to shift in hue from blue to gray to green, and a smile that was sometimes affectionate, and sometimes malevolently teasing. He had first seen those eyes gazing in his direction at the Halloween masquerade ball, and knew exactly what he was dealing with as he struggled to close his mind to the vampire’s attempt to read his thoughts.

He had taken hold of the slender, gloved hand he had been offered, and waltzed around the ballroom floor with the being in his arms, entranced by this graceful, willowy beauty with a white-feathered half-mask and an indigo wig styled in flowing ringlets. The ethereal creature was clad in a gown of funereal black lace to play the part of a noble lady, although he could not tell if the vampire was male, female or neither.

It seemed that the dance would never end as he gazed into those strange eyes and felt the first of many tender kisses on his lips beneath the light of glimmering chandeliers.

“You crave more than a dance, for I can feel it in your touch,” the vampire had whispered, allowing the slightest glimpse of pointed fangs before nuzzling at the hunter’s neck in gentle mockery. “And soon, you will be mine and I will give you everything you want.”

Many nights after the ball was over, the hunter could still smell the scent of patchouli from the vampire’s cold skin, and sense that he was being watched, even in the privacy of his own room behind a door locked from the inside.

He could not understand why this creature unnerved him, for he had hunted down and killed vampires far more dangerous than this one, vicious brutes who drained the blood and tore apart the bodies of the innocent. Perhaps it was this vampire’s androgynous and unearthly beauty, or the way they seemed to know he had become obsessed with them.

His dreams were both erotic and terrifying, of deep, biting kisses that left his lips bleeding, and he could not tell if the blood was his own or that of his assailant; when he awoke he could swear he tasted that blood for real. He shivered as he remembered the chilling caresses of the vampire’s hands in those tortured reveries, and he felt like his mind was no longer his own when he dreamed of reciprocating all that dark lust.

By day, he sought the places where he had dreamed of seeing the vampire, looking for their lair and intending to put an end to the demonic creature and the fever dreams they sent him. But every search led to a dead end, and his torments began anew each time he fell asleep.

After months of this sheer mental torture, he resorted to medicines and magic to keep himself awake. Night after night, he sat bolt upright in a chair facing the furthest wall, eyes fixed on the clock as he counted down the seconds, minutes and hours once midnight had passed. 

Soon he did not even need the pills or spells, for no force on earth could compel him to close his eyes at night,

Each night, he was aware of a shadow in the corner that seemed to grow more distinct with every passing moment. At first, it was merely a shapeless form of black and gray, and then a figure that seemed vaguely human. A slim figure that was neither male nor female, but something beautiful and desirable and not of the mortal world.

Midnight of New Year’s Eve arrived, and the hunter knew he was on the brink of plunging into hell.

His body felt weak, and his mind completely shattered. He prayed to whatever gods might be out there that this thing would not destroy him, and that even if he could not kill the creature, that he might live to reclaim whatever scraps remained of his sanity.

“But why destroy you when you are so precious to me?” he heard a sweet voice ask, and a slender being dressed in black velvet pants and a baggy gray silk shirt stood before him, one long, pale finger tracing the outline of the hunter’s cheekbone. 

“There was never any need to sink my fangs into your throat and drain you, my beloved,” that beautiful but oh so menacing voice said, and warm lips touched his own for one brief moment. “You were mine from the beginning, and all those midnight kisses that you thought were only dreams were enough to make you invite me in, and make you change.”

And those sweet lips were on the hunter’s once again, seeking to be pierced by the fangs the hunter did not realize he had.


End file.
